


Silhouettes

by midnightrider



Category: Daredevil (TV), Marvel, The Defenders (Marvel TV), The Punisher (TV 2017)
Genre: Canon-Typical Violence, Character Death, Eventual Romance, F/M, Heartbreak, Love Triangles, Romance
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-01-24
Updated: 2019-01-24
Packaged: 2019-10-15 18:14:28
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,183
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17533730
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/midnightrider/pseuds/midnightrider
Summary: Two different paths converge in the same house. A woman with a history as dark and red as Frank's gives him the slip as the Devil tries to find her salvation before she becomes more like him. When she gets involved in Frank's mission to avenge his family, will she survive the storm by his side or will she have to run from shadows of her own past to the arms of the Devil?





	Silhouettes

There was only the sound of falling rain, the downpour that fell over the city of New York. The passing cars illuminated the dark streets for seconds only. It was not enough to encourage the demons back to their lairs. In the crevices of an alley way, hidden by the shadows of the night, a woman cocked her gun. The clicking of the safety coming off silent among the sound of rain against pavement. There was a cloud that signaled her breath in the cold of the night, as she took aim at the man in the window of the restaurant. 

"Mockingbird, can you confirm the identity?" There was silence the seconds after, her eyes trained on the bald man, stuffing his face with food. Her stomach coiled in anger. The voice at the other end rose.

"Yes, Crow, that's him. Dr. Sylvester Hallman." A predatory smile slid onto her face as she looked through the scope of her gun. The memories of the pain she endured dancing before her eyes, the images of Mockingbird lying in his own blood, they all goaded her into pulling the trigger. The bullet cut through the water droplets and the glass, the man fell face first into the food he was eating. The other patrons dispersed quickly, frightened by the sight. Crow smiled from her hiding place, the raw glee of killing the man filling her heart. She climbed up the fire escape with ease, unaware that she was being watched by a figure on the opposite side of the street. The lighting struck down somewhere in the distance, lighting up the devil in white light. 

Neoma made it home, climbing in through the fire escape window. From the darkness of his room, Archie emerged, his eyes looking hopeful as Neoma put the gun behind the framed Tame Impala poster. She turned, her hair sticking to her small face. It was almost comical how small her frame was compared to the gun she was holding. Archie raised an eyebrow, her eyes met his with uncaged glee.

"Out of the picture?" He asked, daring himself to be hopeful. She closed the secret framed door. Her arms wrapping around his torso as she grins up at him. Her smile is infectious as they embraced. Two siblings who had been through so much freeing themselves as they cut down each puppet master, one strike at a time. 

"Dead, fell face first into the food he was eating." She says happily, she lets go, walking into the kitchen as she sheds her jacket; she hands the jacket upon the hook near the door. She looks through the fridge for a drink, pulling out a juice. Archie leans against the counter, a relief sitting on his chest, bubbling in his stomach like a balloon. He remembered how he had met Neoma as if it had been yesterday. 

The small boy was shoved into a room, he was obviously bloody and beaten. There was a stitched up gash on the arch of his left eyebrow. There were wires exposed on the back of his neck momentarily as the skin healed over it. There was a girl, smaller in stature in the same room. Her short hair concealing her face as she sat against the wall. Her hands bloody, her arms covered in dried blood. At first Archie had thought that she was dead, killed herself. That was not at all the case. The blood on her hands was not hers. He approached her cautiously, and she looked up at him with hard eyes. His every abounding light broke through her darkness, he smiled. 

"I'm Archie." He spoke softly, her eyes downcast once more. She spoke so soft he almost didn't hear her. 

"I'm Neoma." 

He very quickly realized why he was here. He had heard of Neoma before. How strong she was, it was repeated by his handlers. He realized that he would be serving as her eyes in the sky. 

Very quickly, it became apparent to the Tenebris handlers that Archie and Neoma would become their best duo yet. Neoma did anything to keep Archie out of harms way, and Archie provided her with the information she needed to carry out her kills. At the age of fifteen, Neoma was one of their best trained hitmen and Achie had grown into his role of technological carbon anomaly. He was human, yes, but with technological enhancements. They quickly outshined the dragon twins, Scylla and Charybdris, with their teamwork. When Charybdris died, they were the only duo left in the whole facility. 

Tenebris had made it their goal to seek out orphans without a home or a family. They sent out their members to "adopt" the children and then they experimented on them. Neoma had taken to Archie as an older sister. It was normal for children to form attachments quickly. It had not changed for Archie and Neoma. Dr. Hallman had wanted to separate them, to try and see if Archie could be upgraded, if he could be cloned. Neoma fought like a rabid animal and killed a few handlers to keep Archie with her. Thankfully, Tenebris slipped up. They handed themselves in on a silver platter to the government who shut them down quickly. The only problem is that many of the doctors had walked free. Carson Wolf had let them walk, it was suspected to be because one of them could fix his eye. Neoma was 29 at the time. No longer a child but a machine with little to no emotions. Many of the old child Agents had been set free, killed, or had run away to live whatever remained of their lives in solitude.

Archie was reminded of the present by the sound of Neoma's laugh. Over the six years since they had run, he had taught her feel. He hadn't lost the boyish spirit in him and he believed that Neoma could gain emotions from him. He had shown her it was okay to feel. She had learned pretty well considering the circumstances. She twisted the cap off of a beer, tipping it toward him in a pointed gesture. 

"Who's next in the death note Arch?" She asks, taking a swig from her beer as she watched him. He reached into his back pocket to pull out the list, his eyes scanning over many scrawled names until he reached the very bottom. 

"The big man himself, Carson Wolf." The air felt heavy. Wolf had allowed many of the doctors to walk free, to let them continue to build child soldiers under the watchful eye of SHIELD. She kissed her teeth, humming in thought. 

"This one has to be personal. I will kill him in his home." Archie's mind flashed through everything that could go wrong. Neoma was small and very light. He wasn't a trained fighter and had never had to fight Neoma, but he didn't want her to get hurt. He couldn't protect her, even if he tried.  She was stubborn though, and he knew she wasn't doing this for herself. They had friends, old members of the same organization that had harmed them in such ways. Neoma had an absurd sense of honor that never let her rest. She was unstoppable when she wanted to be. An arm wrapped around his shoulders, and he smiled down at his sister. 

"I know you're worried Arch. I'll be fine." She reassured softly, before pulling away. She headed into her room, the door closing behind her. Archie looked after her, at the closed door, his worry rising again. 

Elsewhere, the devil was looking for a trail that the rain had carried away. The smell of gun smoke had faded, the odd orchid perfume had dissipated. It couldn’t be Frank, unless ihe had started wearing perfume, but even then he’d have a specific scent. This person smelt of orchid, lavender, gun powder, smoke, and coffee. The tapping of his cane on the sidewalk was the only thing keeping him grounded.

He listened to all the sounds of the people in the buildings, the humanity that surrounded him even when he felt like the darkness would continue to swallow him. He couldn’t find whoever that was in the pouring rain. He returned to the underbelly of the church as the sun rose. 

The silent protector stood at the edge of the ferry, his eyes seeing ghosts of the past. The statue of liberty mocking him, mocking the fact that it took the most important part of him away. Mocking the fact that it owned his soul. The violence that he had inflicted weighed upon his soul as he remembered his children. He shook his head, reminding himself he had to return to avenge them. 

The hacker watched Frank from a distance, knowing he would be the one he needed for this job specifically. Needed to help him come back to the fold of society. He sighed softly, the hacker went back to watch his family who seemed to grow more and more restless. He longed to be with them. He longed to see them happy. He was getting restless himself, the need to hold his family running rampant in his chest. 

Neoma polished her knives, sharpening them to a fine edge. The sharpness would cut through flesh like a hot knife through butter. Archie leaned against the door frame, his arms crossed. He was worried, just like he had been yesterday night. It didn't matter, there was no way he could talk Neoma out of something like this. Something that meant so much to their friends, that meant so much to both of them. If she failed, she would hold it over herself forever. She would feel as if she had failed. 

"Are you sure you want to do this alone, Neo?" He asked softly. She looked up at him, determined but her eyes still soft. She put her knives away in their respective areas around her person. She touched his arm lightly. 

"I won't be alone, I'll have you with me." 

She was right, he would be there. He would be watching to make sure she was okay. He would provide the back up she needed with his skills but it was not enough to make him feel as though she would be safe. He watched as she tugged on her jacket, saluted him, and left their small apartment through the fire escape. He ventured into his room, his little drones following her from roof to roof. 

Frank Castle arrived at the home of Carson Wolf as the sun made it's bed in the horizon. He waits until it's dark before entering the home through the back door. The problem with entitled assholes like Wolf was they were all to comfortable leaving their back doors open. He waits until the man in question gets off of the phone before he attacks. 

"Crow there's some one else already inside the house!" Calls Archie from the headset. Neoma slides in through a window, light on her feet as she makes her way through the home. She hears the voice of Carson Wolf. His voice is so distinctly filled with self importance, she stalls. 

"If there were enough people dead, it would look like an accident, and you would be dead as well." He gloats, chuckling in sick glee before he goes to pull the trigger. Neoma recognizes the sound of an empty chamber, and before she can move another muscle, there's the sick crack of a neck breaking. She makes her way quietly down the stairs, mask on, as she is met with two void-like dark eyes. 

"You workin' for him too?" The man asks, his accent distinct. Neoma looks down at the body of her target with annoyance and hatred. She shakes her head, watching him clean off his hands.

"No, I was coming to kill him. It seems I was too slow." She responds blankly. The man seems to laugh, taking everything he brought from the floor beneath him. He lifts Wolf onto his shoulder with gloved hands. 

"You're awfully small, sweetheart, and Wolf wasn't just anybody." Frank says, finding it funny that someone who could barely see over the railing was thinking about killing him. Neoma was not as amused by the subject. 

"I'm not just anyone either, and Wolf wouldn't have been the first man I killed." She retorts plainly. Her anger bubbling below the surface of her sin. He turns to look at her, raising an unimpressed eyebrow. 

"You a soldier?" He asks, knowing the answer is probably no. There's no way a soldier would try to carry out a death like this. They shoot first ask questions later. She shakes her head, agreeing with his thoughts. Just as he was about to retort, she spoke without giving him a chance. 

"No, I'm not a soldier but I was taught to kill at a very young age." 

Frank watches her move with suspicion clearly written on his face. He watches her disappear up the stairs and calls after her. 

"My name is Frank."

"Good to know."


End file.
